“Now, go away and leave me alone! Fve weightier things to consider than your possible discomforts.”
With the departure of the glowering priest, Drehkos returned to his ponderings. For the first time in his life, he regretted not riding north in his youth to serve as a Freefighter in the Middle Kingdoms with Djeen Morguhn, as had so many others of the young Kindred nobility. If he had, at least, he might now have a bare glimmering of his best course to follow, might not now be in this sorry mess. Finally, he sent for the only professional officer left after the previous Bight’s chaos and carnage.
Shortly, the barbarian sublieutenant ambled in, his battered helmet sitting askew over his bandaged head. “You wanta talk to me, Lord Drehkos?”
Drehkos gestured at the other chair, charred slightly, like his own. When the skinny, long-bodied man had seated himself, the commander outlined the overall situation, admitted his own ignorance, and bluntly asked what he should do.
The reply was just as blunt. “Lord Drehkos, including me, it ain’t but twenny real soljers left. Mosta them Vawnees done been long gone, an” I cain’t say I blames ’em none. The only ones in this whole kit-and-kaboodle what has any chance of getting back to Morguhnpolis is the horsemen and, mebbe* them there coaches. Them pike-toters is dead meat no matter how you riggers it, and you and us a-gittin’ ourselves kilt long with ’em ain’t gonna do nobody no good.
“Way I sees it, there’s two things you can do, and 111 tell ’em to you. But I don’t think neither one’s gonna set in your craw too good.” He paused, raising his grizzled brows in an unspoken question.
“Don’t fear to speak, Lieutenant Hohguhn,” smiled Drehkos. “I’m not Lord Myros. I don’t punish men for speaking the truth as they see it, no matter how distasteful that truth may be to me.”
“Wai, Lord Drehkos, if I *uz you, Fd ride up yonder and surrender and see if I couldn’t git my lord to go easy on my men, even if he wouldn’t on me!”
Drehkos shook his head slowly. “Would that I could, lieutenant, but I don’t think that that gesture would accomplish anything. I’ve met Thoheeks Bili, both in friendship and in enmity, and I’ve found him hard as steel. He was reared in Harzburk and tutored at the court of King Gilbuht, if you know what that means.”
Hohguhn nodded vehemently. “I shore do, Lord Drehkos, I shore do, and you’re right as rain, too. Won’t do no particle of good to expeck no mercy off one of the Iron King’s folks. Only thing you and your officers and them few Vawnees can do now is make tracks for Morguhnpolis, and I shorely do wish you luck.”
“You won’t be riding with us then, Hohguhn?”
The lieutenant looked the nobleman squarely in the eye. “No suh, I won’t, and neither will none of my men.”
“May I ask why, good Hohguhn? I’ll not hold your answer against you.”
The officer cracked his scarred knuckles before answering. “Wai, Lord Drehkos, it’s thisaway. We’s all Freefighters and we ain’t been paid in near three moons, but we *uz all willing to stick around, long as it looked like we might get some loot, no matter how common Lord Myros treated us; but didn’t none of us sign on to fight the Confederation Army or to die in a losing fight for no pay but rotten rations and horsepiss wine and hard words.”
He glanced around uncomfortably, then leaned forward and spoke in a much-lowered voice. “Lord Drehkos, you done treated us better all along then any of the others’, so 111 level with you. You cain’t hold Morguhnpolis! Them old walls ain’t near thick nor high enough, and mosta the engines whut wuz burnt up las’ night was took off of them walls, so Morguhnpolis ain’t nuthin* now but a big oP rat trap. Don’t you git yourself caught in it, Lord Drehkos. You just keep on by. You don’t look like no Ehleen, so mebbe the mountain folks’ll take you in. This all’s just ‘tween you and me, you un-nerstan’.”